Saturday, January 2, 2021

Kevolution Theory Presents the Meaningless Bowl Powered by Kevolution Theory


If there’s one thing I’ve learned the last 10 months 6 months 2 months 2 weeks, it’s that I can sit around and watch almost anything. At least for like 15 minutes. I apparently have cable channels that show nothing but We’re the Millers and Lifetime Xmas movies. Speaking of, I had an epiphany recently. I was wearing pants -no, not the epiphany-and melted peanut butter and chocolate chips and poured onto vanilla ice cream. YUM! I am pretty sure my Peloton instructor-if I had one-would be most disappointed. But that’s not the epiphany. As I was watching some college football bowl game, it hit me; college bowl games are to guys as Lifetime/Hallmark Xmas movies are to girls.

Now, since, I am an honest sunna bitch, I will ‘fess up to occasionally watching, like 20 minutes of a Hallmark Xmas movies. But only if the girl is hot. Or accessible, depending where my evening is at that point in time. Then I finish my SkinnyTini, and put on the Bowl game like a GD man. Point is, I have experience in both.

Pretty sure these two shot 32 more Xmas movies. Just this week alone.

Hear me out. Most bowl games suck, as do all Hallmark Xmas movies. Both are a pleasant waste of time. When both are over, they will literally disappear from your consciousness. There’s about a zillion of each. Tubs of popcorn and bottles of beer can disappear while watching both. You can see, the experience is quite similar. We really are one village.

When I woke up with the dog licking popcorn off my hoodie, I had a thought. It bothered me that most bowl games do suck. And this is sports and football and America, goddamn it! We deserve better. And that’s where I come in. (That’s what he said.) I had some more popcorn (both fresh and hoodie popcorn) and a few more stiff cocktails and came up with ways to make college football more accessible for everybody. A meaningless bowl game should at least be fun to watch for everybody. Sounds like your favorite blog, right? Allow me to save college football. Ladies and Gents, welcome to the Kevolution Theory Meaningless Bowl.


·        Cheerleaders. And lots of them. Girl AND guy cheerleaders. The point here is to have a party, so we should all get to look at attractive people. More than likely, your party won’t have any of it’s own, so win win. 

Sorry, ladies, apparently there are not hot male cheerleaders on GIS.

·       Comedians calling the game. (And, no, I am NOT talking Dennis Miller.) Let’s face it, just like Hallmark movies, the players here are generally faceless. We typically don’t care about them, and will never think of them ever again. (Unless given a reason to, hang tight about this one.) Honestly, they could call every player on the team Vic Lagina, and we’d probably never notice. “And Lagina…..completes the pass to wide receiver Vic Lagina. Move the chains, first down.” We don’t need to fucking know the intricacies off the "Offerpad Bowl." Having one comedian in the booth to crack jokes makes the broadcast more tolerable. I guess we do need the play by play/straight guy here to play off of, fine. While I would prefer my comedian to have some custom football jokes, they would be welcome to delve into current events, but staying away from hot button topics. We’re trying to have a good time here. I wonder how much it would be to bring in Ron Burgundy? 

·        The Kevolution Theory presents The Meaningless Bowl Drinking Game. Well, DUH. We really need to drive the communal and fun aspect here. Say what you want, but the XFL was a fun product to watch. And much like the XFL games, college bowl games can get sloppy and boring, so we need to keep everyone engaged. Drinking game! Hell, there are tons of drinking games for Lifetime Xmas movies, so why not here? This idea is still a work in progress, as I try new ideas every game. And who vomited on the couch? Regardless, a few ideas I’m working on; 1 drink for first downs, 2 for turnovers, chug for TDs. Perfect for the whole family! Even the biggest football noob will soon be rooting for an interception returned for a TD. You go, gramma!

·        Appropriate sponsors. I am pretty sure most sponsors would want to stay away from my bowl game. (Now you know why there’s never been any advertising here.) It would fall to me to cultivate my sponsors so I can actually get a pay day. Sure, I would love to throw a bone to products I actually use in my own life. However, I am pretty sure my calls to MuscleTech, Irish Spring, Coke Zero, Gatorade, Sun Bum, Extenz, SiriusXM, UnderArmour, Degree (6 days a week), NHL, etc would go unanswered. I would have to go off the beaten track to find some sponsors that I am sure would love to access my core demographic. Malibu Rum would never call me back, but maybe Calico Jack and Admiral Nelson would be happy to come aboard. (BTW, both those are my actual rums of choice, especially if they throw me a free case or 17.) I’d love to designate Tilted Kilt an as official “watch partner” of the Meaningless Bowl. Hello, you alcohol companies, can you see the cross promotion opportunities here? Some fans would prefer to watch from home; a call to the fine folks at Solo (Red Cup Division) who might want to launch a hashtag promotion with all their social media. My core demographic are boozers, so maybe a water company wants to come on board to sponsor some water breaks. Hell, I am sure those app companies that make apps to prevent drunk texting/calling would pay me a princely sum to keep viewers from making a mistake. I could tell you more ideas, but I can’t give away my entire marketing plan here. I am pretty sure those douchebags from the Outback Bowl are reading.

·        Since we’re at least looking at next season for the first Meaningless Bowl, I hope to have some fans in the stadium. If so, I am bringing in some of the Bills Mafia to give lessons on how to properly pregame in the parking lot. Note to self; also find table sponsor.

·        Better rules. Since I am the presenting sponsor of the Meaningless Bowl-powered by Kevolution Theory, ICYMI- I have the responsibility to make this game as exciting as possible. And we do that by switching some things up. First change, no punts. That’s right; teams go for it every time. 4th and 32 at your own 6? Tough titties, you’re throwing. Next, each team gets 1 (one) mulligan to use. Yep, one do-over on any play of their choice. Did butterfingers just fumble at the goal, and the other team run it back? You can erase that one play. However, for the purpose of the drinking game, it counts as two chugs. Them’s the rules.

·        Highlighting the seniors playing their last game. In some cases, there are top draft picks playing their last game before they get drafted and ruined by the Jets and Jags. BFD. Where’s the human interest in that? I think it’s a far more compelling to tell the stories of the other 97% of the players who will never play another football game. Sure, some can go on and play arena or XFL, maybe Lingerie. The cold fact here is that for just about every player, this will be the last game they play, and they will have to fall back on that degree to make a living. There’s your fucking human interest story. But we don’t stop there; no, the Meaningless Bowl presented by Kevolution Theory will be a class act. During the game, we will allow such players to tell us their next step. They get their moment, too. Imagine how meaningful it will be to the player and family for him to declare, “Hi, this is Vic Lagina, and after the game, I’ll be an account manager at Deloitte.”

·        AWS will make the football glow and leave a trail when thrown. Long live the Glow Puck!

·        Is it The Kevolution Theory Meaningless Bowl? The Meaningless Bowl presented by Kevolution Theory? Kevolution Theory presents the Meaningless Bowl? I should probably figure that out before I get the hoodies made. And you damn well know I am intentionally gonna spell it Bowel on some merch to create awareness and extra income. Ka-ching!

·        A good band for halftime. Unless I could get sponsors for the halftime “report” and have it take place live in the parking lot with the Bills Mafia in the background, screw it. I’d rather have a good band or two play. And, no, not the Foo Fighters.

·         No “aerial coverage” if my game is played in a dome. I never understood the point.

·        Entertaining prop bets at the bottom of the screen. Only if I can get sponsorship. We’re not going overboard here, just easy stuff. Bets like, will next play be run or pass? Will next reception be made by odd or even numbered jersey? Which coach will slam the phone down first? Was it your aunt or uncle who just got sick in the closet?

Who’s ready for some college football, right? Good luck watching the -ahem- Tax Slayer Bowl with their lameass rules.

Thursday, October 22, 2020

26 Reasons Why You Would Vote For Me If I Was In The Debate

 The last few months, when I get recognized in public, it's always been the same two questions:

1) Sir, can you please stop urinating? The children can see you.

2) WTF ever happened to you running for President? We need you. This country needs you.

Both fair questions. So, dear readers, allow me to fill you in on my whereabouts the last few months. Like all of you, once the pandemic set in, I quarantined myself, used old socks as TP when I had to, became well versed in home brewing -prison wine-, gained 15 pounds and generally fell into the comfort of keeping my lazy ass home. Yet, I was heartbroken, as I continued to see our fair country continue to splinter apart. Instead of seeing this pandemic as a shining moment, we were left without leadership, with conflicting information, information that was slow in getting out, politics, division, fear, ignorance, brutality. At a time we all needed to be together, we were not; we were divided. It shattered me. Finally, about week or 7 or 8 (honestly, who's counting anymore), I raised myself off my couch/bed/video game chair, took myself to the bathroom, wiped off the Cheeto dust from my lumberjack beard and took a long, hard look in the mirror. Clearly, this country needed me. It's not like these dipshits here have ever voted a clueless putz with no previous experience into the highest office in the land. I found my resolve. I looked into that mirror, and in a low, Batman like tone, uttered, "FFuuuucckkkkkk this."

Like, seriously, even I don't know that I can #unfuck all this. Thsi seems like too much unfun work now. Conspiracy theories, bad cops, reporters jerking off, COVID numbers spiking back up, gathering crowds, social injustice, ignoring science. We're a shit show folks, a true shit show. And I don't know that I can fix this with PlayStation 5 about to come out.

Actually, it turns out you have to be on ballots, and get through primaries and other riff raff to actually be involved in these Presidential Debates. To be honest, the debates are kinda overblown. Your candidate of choice will always win in your eyes. The candidate not of your choosing will lose. We all have FB, we see it. They say these debates are for the "undecided." As I said in 2016, who dafuq can be undecided between these two? There are pretty clear differences. It's like comparing apple skin to orange skin. And these "undecided" dolts are the dullards most likely to decide this election. With that in mind, I am pretty sure these yahoos are my demographic. And while I won't be in the debate tonight, If I was, I have clear cut ideas that would sway me all the votes I need to become 46. So before y'all watch the debates, then post your propaganda on your socials, hear me out. Read the below. Then, instead of posting links to main stream media tonight, please link this brilliant political essay on all your socials so we can turn this around.

How I would win the debate:

1) If my donors raise enough campaign funds, I will audibly fart on stage.

2) I believe in science. I used to watch MythBusters all the time. In an unrelated note, there is a cabinet position waiting for you, Kari Byron. (Really, Kev, you’re still making Kari Byron jokes in 2020? Yes. Yes I am.)

And the answer is

3) I never grabbed a woman by the pussy, nor smelled her hair in an unsolicited fashion.

4) Debates; two minute clock visible to candidates, audience, at home viewers. If at the end of the 2 minutes, you’re still talking, you get slimed. Keep going after that? Feathers. Still yapping? Honey. Then bees.  Thumb tacks. This can go on all night, folks. Mentos. Diet Coke.

5) I paid more than $750 in taxes last year. (And that’s just in sin tax.) 

6) I believe in climate change. I mean, it seems pretty basic to me, the more disgusting humans we populate the planet with, the more of a strain we put on Mother Earth. I don't even have kids (y'all welcome, BTW) but even I'm trying to leave it a better place. Stop being twats about this.

7) I will pick a suitable VP. TBD. And they will be working nights, weekends and holidays because that’s when I get my bad swerve on.

9) Speaking of, anyone know anyone who could be a good VP?

10) I don’t golf. Occasionally, a round of mini golf, but not these days.

11) I don’t Tweet.

12) I mean, really, if there’s one thing you can fairly say, I have better hair than either candidate. And I spend far less on it. True story, in September, I got my haircut for the first time in over two years. BECAUSE I AM A GODDAMNED PATRIOT!

"Need some trim, Kev?"
(Yes, this is a half naked dude. It's called courting the chick vote.")

 13) I'll have entrance music (by a band that approves me) and some pyrotechnics if appropriate.

14) I wouldn’t hire anybody from my family, because they’re all idiots.

15) I have no problem wearing a mask, not only will it protect myself, my loved ones and fellow Americans, it actually makes me look more attractive!

16) I won’t make up random numbers and vague statistics. Even though 87% of the populace agrees with me, and I have the support of many, many generals. Bigly generals.

17) I will hire an independent fact checking company to fact check both myself and the lose…uh…candidate, and publish those results real-time on my website.

18) I have the odd ability to actually answer the questions asked of me.

19) I wouldn't compete against Thursday Night Football. Even if it's a garbage NFC East matchup.

20) I, too, have no idea what Qanon is. I pretty much stopped watching the news when the pandemic hit. Are they some sort of WWE faction or something?

"Dang it, Cleetus! What did I tell ya? Take a look at that feller there. He's running them there pizza parlors with the young boys and all the Democrats. And the aliens; both intergalactic and dem dere illegals."

21) My town halls; 2 drink minimum for everyone. I will also have the debate drinking game displayed between myself and my opponent so we can also play along.

22) Invited members in my gallery; Kari Byron (grooming her for a cabinet position), Steve Austin (who gave the President a Stone Cold Stunner), Borat, Snoop Dogg (I don't think he says no to anything), Lisa Lampinelli  and my dog. Because, Americans, I can promise you the first thing I do when elected is put a dog back in the White House.

First Dawg Good Boy

23) BTW, is it still cool to call it the White House these days, or do we need to get woke to that, too?

24) I will announce the official "Sexy Kevolution Theory Presidential Costume." Comprised of flip flops, board shorts and a ratty concert t (feel free to add your own rum stains. RUM stains.), Proceeds will go to various women's benefits.

25) I won't use my persuasive powers for evil. To prove that, I will politely point out there is no #8 on this list. 

26) I'll insist the co-moderator will be Sister Mary Joseph, who taught me in 6th grade. So if myself or my opponent get out of line, she will wrap us about the knuckles with a wooden ruler.

I look forward to your vote!



Monday, May 25, 2020

"This Might Be the Quarantine Talking But..."

So, this whole pandemic thing has us isolated. Is there anything worse than being alone with your thoughts? Prolly not. Here's a bunch of random thoughts that have been taking up space in my head.

I can now confidently rock white tube socks.

No one has said they miss baseball. NO ONE.

I'll allow this.

(The most work I've done for this post is researching for the above picture)

All these knudnicks running around that want everything open yesterday are subliminally screaming "My home life sucks." We know, but we ain't responsible for your poor choices, bro. (And they're all guys)

All the people whining they won't wear masks...are exactly the people who need to be wearing masks.

I've lost track of all days, and I can't blame my burgeoning alcoholism.

Still on my same stick of deodorant from early March.

Ditto travel size bottle of shampoo I stole form a Hotel 6.

In unrelated news, dreads take a lot longer to grow than I originally was lead to believe.

A lil' sumthin' for the ladies

April was last month, apparently

I still can't find a girl who can pull off the "girl looks hot in face mask" look.

Flobies are now more than Jordans on eBay

My rum consumption has gone up. Also, I don't have the 'rona. Coincidence?

OK, I really am wondering what would Jimmy Buffett do
18,000 new cases of Corona reported this day

Isn't it time for a reboot of 2 Girls 1 Cup?

I really like the new drive in bar at the bottom of the parking lot of the shopping center where I order my rum

There's this old dude at my home gym that can no longer pull off all the UnderArmour he wears. Don't get me started on his tube socks.

Screw it; for the rest of the summer, the Kevolution Theory archives is free for everyone.
"But, Kev, your blog has always been fr....."

I can't tell you the last time I wore pants that had a button. Or belt. or a zipper. Or just pants...

The thing about losing track of hours and days is it's always cool to start drinking. Is that an 8AM sun or a 2PM sun. Who's to say? Bottoms up!

With all this talk of contactless delivery, I can't be the only one wondering WHAT THE FUCK WERE THEY DOING TO OUR FOOD BEFORE ALL THIS?

Also, contactless is a new word because my SpellCheck flags it every time

You can have your hockey back, but Pierre McGuire does every game. Hhmmmmm...

So COVID porn is a real thing. I've watched some of it. A few twice!

I find on the days I don't use deodorant, the social distance thing isn't that big a thing. For everyone else.

Me, after I showered, used deodorant and washed my hair two days in a row.

I have contactless glasses.

Someone, somewhere, is designing a "sexy Coronavirus" costume.

How da fuck are Christmas movies supposed to make anyone feel better?


I like Corona, but I wished they gave this a scarier name, like Coors Light or Lowerbrau. "Hey, did you hear about Steve? He caught the 'Brau."

I think we're all on the bus that we wear whatever when we're in our backyards. For example, I had on a coconut bra and a grass skirt today, and nobody batted an eye.

(Would the above joke be funnier if I said I was wearing white tube socks, too?)

People are using this time to learn an instrument, paint, draw, do magic. And all I have is this shitty post. Where's your art?

What if we decide we don't like the New Normal, say "fuck it" and just hang out in the house all day?

You're still staring at your phone too much.

Sunday, January 5, 2020

My 2020 Rebel Resolutions

1) Get these out actually before the New Year hits.

New Year's Resolutions are pretty much bullshit. I'm not the first one to point it out and won't be the last. Yet, you sheep continue to make them like it makes a damn of difference. People, somewhere there is a talking frog somehow drinking a cup of tea and looking down on your foibles.

It got me to thinking; what if I made totally achievable resolutions? Well, that's kinda easy. So that got me even more thinking (my head now has an ouchie, you unappreciative bastards, so y'all better appreciate this post), what if I was just totally a rebel? I mean, I AM a rebel and all (think, like the good Star Wars rebels, not like the racist ones) so what if I went the other way with these BS resolutions? What if I defied all logic, what would that look like? It took me a couple days, but I came up with the Resolutions we all need for the Roaring 20s. Follow along and- uh, wait, actually don't follow along. You guys just stick with your usual resolutions. In fact, just stop reading this now. (Not a problem for a lot of people when it comes to this blog, trust me.) Leave me along with my resolutions, sheeple.

Drink more.  Fine, I mean, if I have to. Almost all of you lamos picked this one for your sissy resolutions. Ha, not me suckers! I now feel like it's my civil duty. What with all this extra alcohol just lying around, collecting dust like positive reviews for Cats, the economy will crash. Not on this patriot's watch. If there's anything I've learned from the Modelo commercials, it's that beer brings this great country together. Alcohol is my friend, my wingman. No one has ever said, "I just had a Sprite with Kev, and you know what? He is quite the charmer. Very funny, too. I'll have to read his blog sometime. And you know what? He's kinda hot." Besides, what's better after a night of having a few drinks than waking up feeling like shit? Personally, I enjoy spending most of the morning trying to fashion a Gatorade drip, brushing my teeth 10 times and feeling like it's a workout to just sit up. Throw in some shitty pizza and fries for dinner, and that is living. All worth it for a few measly White Claws, amirite?
A billion internet points and a Taco Bell hot sauce pack if you get this reference.

Spend less time with Theory Pup 2. Really, he can go fuck himself. He lies around on the couches all day, something TP 1 never got to do, BTW. You know what it's like to fight the dog hungover (me, not him. Not yet, anyway.) for couch space? And all the time I waste giving him belly rubs? You know he eats, multiple times a day, for free?? What is this bullshit? Just because of his unconditional love? All the times he cheers me up when I am blue? The times he drags me out of the house on beautiful (and not so beautiful) days for walks. The times he redeems all my shitty days? The daily laughs? Why, just last night, I was lying on the couch. This son of a bitch jumps right on me, his body between my legs, his knucklehead on my chest. He looks at me with all the love in the world in his eyes. He gently falls asleep, punctuated with gentle puppy snores. This is the most serenity and peace I can find this side of the ocean. And what do I have to do for this? Pick up all his dooks in the yard. Once a month. Honestly, there is so much there, I swear he has his friends come over to leave a steamer. Pfft, yea, fuuucck him.

Spend more time on Facebook. Yes, in the past I championed a movement hash tagged (by me) as #FacebookFree48. The essence of this enlightening practice is spending 2 days -usually Saturday and Sunday, but you can choose-off all of your social media. In return, you almost get 2 whole days back to keep all your bullshit resolutions. You get more time to spend with friends/family, live in the moment, meditate, read, write, walk the dog, blah blah blah. Sounds transcendent, right? You know what happened. Everyone said, "Great idea, Kev!" then right fucking ignored it. Instead, they dispensed with the life right in front of them, and just stared right into their little escape boxes. They even ignored my much simpler idea of not checking you socials first thing in the morning. And you know who this "they" is I am referring to? YOU. Yes, all of YOU reading this right now. YOU.

Fine, you guys win. I am now firmly resolving to checking my social media no less than 75 times an hour. And yes, I have alarms set to remind me. I'm hardcore when I resolve things, damn it. I have decided I constantly need to evaluate my life based on the actions of others, many of who/whom I barely know and will most likely never even physically see in this life. Or the next! How come you guys never told me how much fun this is? I now wholeheartedly enjoy comparing my Saturday night lying on the couch to what your Saturday night is. And, oh man, the fun of waking up on a Wednesday morning and seeing what you did the night before is an awesome way to start out the day! And, oh, all the places you "check in" to or even just the things you are merely interested in? Color me fascinated. I have particularly come to enjoy the vauge-postings. You know, the ones where you post something vague/cryptic/picture, and just leave it hanging there for your other shithead friends to raise a fuss about? I just can't imagine how redeemed and valued that must make you feel. You are a true hero.

Not to leave out all the people who post the same thing every time. Or cry victim about a situation you can change on your own and with no fanfare! Not all heroes wear capes! Which brings me to....

I know, I know, the R word. But this is to prove the point.

Argue more politics on FB
. Quick show of hands here, friends; how many of your political stances have been changed by what you've seen on FB? (Everyone's hands goes up.) Exactly, I totes knew that! To clarify, all of you who post pro a certain political President sway me every time! Hold on, now all you who post anti a certain political President, well, dang it, you just swayed me your way! This is tough. Can y'all just keep hammering home your political beliefs? I will always read them. Better yet, can you enter arguments? Because the nations' opinion always changes when you slam a politician on a page that loves them. Which also brings me to..

Continue My 2020 Presidential Campaign Because I know more about politics about most politicians, really. Much more. By a bigly amount. And let's face it, I am the Preside- no scratch that-the Savior this country needs. Many more blogs to come, the best blogs, really. In the history of blogs. Full of ideas, perfect ideas. The best ideas, everyone knows that. #VoteForKev2020 #YWA

Read less. Again, this is because you guys are being jerks about this one. Almost every resolution I've read has said "read more." Therefore, there will be less to read. Why fight it? You eggheads, go ahead, and hog all the books. I assume y'all know where the library is? And that you even have a valid library card? Or know what a library is? It's fine. Honestly, I still have magazines from 20freaking18 I still haven't finished. How can I appreciate what all the Hot Summer Gear for 2020 is, when I didn't even know what the Hot Summer Gear for 2018 was?! I've also been procrastinating about reading a book I was given months ago- Eat That Frog-about ways to stop procrastinating. I don't have time, damn it! What I really need is a book about how to find the time to read another book about procrastinating. Can one of my fellow writer friends make that happen? So, If I'm reading less, that gives me more time for (and, GD, my segues are strong for not writing lately)...

Writing less. Phew, what a relief this will be. I mean, last year, I only wrote 8 blogs, with my last one being in August. Shit, I need to slow down my pace already! Here's the thing with writing, at least for me. Believe it or not, these dumb posts actually take a lot of time. It's not just writing, but rewriting, editing, "word surgery," tightening things up, fact checking, hyper-linking, more jokes, pictures, captions, SEO tricks (SEO stand for Shit Everyone Overlooks-at least when I try to do it) and generally a 'sleeping' on it period (that's what she said) to make sure it's good enough and worth your time. As you can hopefully see, these generally take a lot of time; from hours when I'm lucky and the words are just falling out (rare) to a week or longer (most common). And, while rewarding at least to me, it's starting to take up a lot of time. A lot of time I can be doing other things. Like all of my rebel resolutions.

And, for me, here's how the experience goes. I feel super fortunate that, say, 20 people 'like' or tell me they enjoy my post. Yet, it only gets 7 hits. While there is value for me to what I consider my art, if the payoff is so damn small, is that still a justifiable return on my investment? Would I personally have more fun getting hammered and beating people up in WWE 2K20 or pouring my black heart and blacker soul into a hilarious piece of art that 11 people read and the one odd hit from Tajikistan? (Where I am huge, BTW.) What's the point in trying if you can't give up? I think Homer Simpson said that, and every great artist felt that way about their art. I've always said history will appreciate me far more after I am gone, which is such an easy way to die. Speaking of dying....

Workout less. I am so damn tired. I don't know how many crunches I have done. Or how much weight I have benched. And for what? To be "in shape?" To "be healthy?" To "live longer?" Honestly, I have pushed myself to do some dangerous things in the gym, it's a minor miracle I haven't hurt myself more. All for what? To "look good?" I have come to the realization that, for me, all this lifting of weight and sharing of sweat has been a big waste. I'll never look thew way I'd want to look, so why bother? Are you not familiar with a great Homer Simpson quote along these lines? At least the one good thing I have going for me is I am not handsome. Maybe, on some level, this has been a fuel for me to go to the gym 4-5 days a week. Thankfully, I have now come to realize that because nature has set the bar so low for me, the best I could aspire to be is a butterface. And I could be so much more? Er, wait, do I want to be some much less? Damn it, I don't even know anymore. But at least I do know, that with working out less comes...

Already ahead of ya, Kev.

Eating more. Not just because of the above, but because, again, it's a common resolution to eat less. Ergo, there will be more food available. And while I hope all this extra food magically finds its way to the most hungry, I think it's fair to say there should be a bit more available to me. So I should be available to eat it. Pretty sure that is the circle of life. I've tried to be a clean eater for years. Using the NutriBullet, trying to eat more plant based stuff, denying myself. Now I robustly say, "No more!" Why have I been denying myself eating tasty chicken wings at the expense of food that should theoretically extend my life for an even longer period of not eating tasty chicken wings? What's the bloody point here? Does Taco Bell have a frequent eater card? 'Cause I'm gonna need one.

Not learn how to play guitar. No, fuck that.

Not learn how to play the violin and the harp. What's the value of learning to play any instrument? OK, so maybe it's better for your brain. And maybe it's a skill you can hone that makes others happy and might get you a few bucks. We all know music is the most vastly underappreciated form of art out there. Music has helped me in my most darkest times, so I owe it to the art to not desecrate it by trying to play. Anything. I have 2 guitars I still have no idea how to play. Let's up the ante here. I would like to not learn how to play two far more difficult instruments. Sorry, symphonic metal bands, you will have to do without me. Good luck getting laid, though.

Meditate less. Er, wait, is "meditating" code for pooping? I doubt that, so Imma just gonna go ahead and somehow do less of something I don't do anyway. What does enlightenment get me anyway? Why do I want to feel better, stress less, feel healthier and live in the moment? Why do I get the feeling folks think meditating is trying to have zero thoughts in your head? Because I see plenty of empty headed idiots all around me. Or is meditating supposed to be you alone with your thoughts? Or quieting your inner voice? Dude, that is exactly why I drink. Why do you think I made that 'drink more' resolution? For my health? Sheesh, pay attention.

Hmmm....might need to rethink this one.

Travel less. You know what travelers love more than traveling? Talking about traveling. And if they do CrossFit while traveling, y'all best run for the hills because they will blather on for days. Have you ever been out in the world? It's a scary, dirty place. Full of strange looking people that talk funny and spread germs. Maybe that's just a generalization, I really don't wanna know. I don't see the benefit of going to all these strange places. Just because they have things there we don't have here? Newsflash, there's a small tower in the center of my small town, so go suck a big one, Paris. I have no less than 3 different pizza places nearby that are all on a first name basis with me. Why would I need to travel to Italy for more Italian cuisine? You will have to do better than a leaning tower and a sinking city; we got plenty of them here, Giuseppe. I see no need to go to different places strictly for just the experience; let alone different culture, people, traditions, music, geography, food, drink, hot exotic women, architecture, experiences, art and on and on and on. I've been to the Jersey shore; many times. I'm good.

Write less lists. OK, I'll have to work on this one.

Start smoking. Oh, how my clear lungs used to laugh and laugh at all you smokers, huddled 40 feet away from the doorway of a building. I mean, it's 2020, you know smoking gives you cancer and deteriorates your body, like, well, cancer. I was really going to skip this one, but than I saw this whole vaping thing the adolescent kids are doing, and now I'm all like, "Sign me up!" I have the extra money now that I've cancelled my gym membership. Can't wait to look older, lose my teeth, have yellow fingers and develop all these symptoms I see on the drug commercials. If it's good enough for Keith Richards, than, damn it, it's good 'nough for me.

Watch more TV. This one is near and dear to me. I am often in awe when I talk to friends that are married, have jobs, a house, kids, etc. And they seem to have copious amounts of time to binge TV. This also dovetails nicely with my 'work out less' and 'eat more' resolutions. Look at me! Look at me as I sit on my couch and watch all these shows y'all rave about. It's surely not because a lot of this streaming medium is new, so if we spend a few shekels on it, we feel compelled to rave about it in a vain attempt to feel superior? It's not because the Mandalorian is the galaxy's worst babysitter? No, not at all. Now weeknights, weekends, legal holidays, you will find me on my couch, light coating of Dorito dust, streaming all these shows. Also, I know this decree bounds me to further blab how great this show on Netflix/Hulu/Amazon/Disney is on social media. This is the way.

2020, you've been put on blast. You are my bitch. If I make, when, WHEN I make it to NYE 2020, I will be bloated, drunk, ignorant, lonely, probably the President, tense, wheezing but up to date on TV. Don't be haters. I have given you all the tools so you can end up like I will. Maybe we can have a party together. As long as I don't have to travel too far to get there.

I hope you have enjoyed this post. I don't have to write another one for months now. It will probably be some weak sauce attempt about something lame, like trying to sleep with one of these gravity blankets or some bullshit. See you then.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

Kevolution Theory Destroys The Idea Of "The Sunday Scaries"

There I am; awake early (!) on a Sunday morning (!!) at the gym (!!!) doing cardio (!!!!) trying to sweat out all the craft beer I had the night before. On the TV is a story about something called “How To Combat The Sunday Scaries.” Really? Really? This is what counts as news, even on a Sunday morning? I’m guessing by the context, the “Sunday Scaries “ is the newest media propagated disease/syndrome that never really existed before, but now it does, so it’s a real thing? Anyone else notice, like over the last 10 years, there’s been an explosion of previously heretofore undiagnosed diseases? Looking at you COPD. But-guess what-there just happens to be a big pharma company that just happens to have the magic pill that can combat said malady! Goodness gracious!

sunday scaries
Anyone else diagram out their Sunday? I do a Venn diagram for Thursday.

OK, TBH here, I really do think there is some substance to things like “Sunday scaries” and conditions like road rage. I do “suffer” from this as much as there are just a bunch of asshole drives constantly around me. And while I do ascribe to the thought that there is probably a bit of merit to what the Sunday Scaries are, I am also the fucking smartest writer you read, so you by golly betcha I also happen to have the cure.

Let’s level the field, here. This is the source video. Watch for yourself, and just imagine my heavy breathing and smelling like craft brews right next to you.

Even though this story is my first exposure to it, it apparently turns out that it’s been a thing for quite a while now. The first hit in a Google search takes me to an actual Sunday Scaries website. The folks over at Urban Dictionary seem to have come up with a definition that is pretty spot on
The feeling you have after a long week of work followed by a Saturday full of binge drinking, when Sunday hits you question your entire existence. Typically characterized by laying in bed all day and both regretting past decisions and questioning your seemingly non-existent future. Thoughts like "I"m going to die alone" and "Will I ever get a job that I actually enjoy?" consume you for the entire day while you're battling a hangover.
Wow I haven't seen Chad all day! He must have a bad case of the Sunday Scaries

I think we’re all on the same page (or in Chad’s bed) here. I think we can all agree, this kinda sorta is a thing. While science has better things to do, this does go along the lines of seasonal affective disorder. In fact, I would hazard a guess to say if you “suffer” from the Sunday scaries, you probably also “suffer” from SAD. And you also must not be a party come Sundays in the fall.

Here’s one of my biggest problems with buying into the scaries; it freely allows you to become the victim here. And, dear readers, I don’t think that’s any of you. I don’t want it to be. “Ooh, tomorrow is Monday, so that gives me permission to be a sullen sadsack and suck all the joy out of these 24 hours and try to drag my friends down with me.” Um, no. Newsflash, dickhead. Monday always comes. Just the same to you as it does me as it does everyone damn else. You cannot stop it, just like you can’t stop Tuesday (I’m not gonna bother to research this, but please don’t tell me there is such a thing as the “Tuesday Terrors.” This shit may never end.) Monday is going to happen, and if you are willing to just roll over all Sunday and give up, I have two words for you

No, not those two words, but these 2 words.

Fuck. You.

Now aside from hitting some imaginary quota where I have to tell any remaining readers to fuck off, then lament why no one reads this anymore, this is just also, plain and simple, the truth. By the Sunday Scary logic, you’re just going to give up on an ENTIRE DAY, just to be dreading the next day? Huh? How does that make sense? Look, I’m not saying there isn’t some validity to SS, but I believe buying into it makes you waste what could potentially be a great day. Instead of investing into the “Sunday scaries” how about putting some oomph into “Sunday Funday?” I’m not great at time management-ask me to tell you later-but even dipshit me sees the flaw here. I can see the danger of buying into this “scary” theory, and I have two recent examples to even illustrate the inherent danger..

A friend posted a question to the effect of “how do I turn off Memories, because I don’t want to be reminded of last year?” This upset me for a few reasons. First and foremost, they are immediately playing the victim here, and I’ll get to that in a second. While I emphasize with whatever the pain or issue might be, publicly calling it out might not be the best move here, why call it out at all? Why give it anymore power? This type of “vague booking” just creates more drama, and I believe this person is better than that. Secondly, this person has the power and control to just negate this issue all together, instead of giving it weight on their social media. While turning off Memories is quite possibly an option, I truly don’t know, but I am sure a quick Google search would yield the answer without calling attention to whatever the issue might be. I believe my friend to be stronger than all of this. Now, whatever the issue is, here’s the simple answer that they have had the entire time:

Stay the fuck off Facebook for 30 days. You’re welcome.

And while that seems to be an impossibility these days, you can at least go a few days. The #FacebookFree48 ("Geez, Kev, does EVERYTHING have to back to you?" Yes, shithead, it does, because I have all the answers.) doesn’t have to take place over just the weekend. You could, say, start it on Monday-and-boom! Look at you, your Monday just got a little bit better and you get a whole truckload of time back instead of frittering it away on FB. Point here being, my friend is not in a hopeless situation. Substitute “Mondays” for “Memories” and the situations become similar. And while certain events may be out of our control, we can control how we respond.

In my own life I had the great fortune to recently go on vacation. While I don’t know that it was quite blogworthy , just go here and it’s pretty much the same story. (Also be sure to stay tuned all the way to the very end for the Easter egg you heartless jackals didn’t catch last year.) I had already been in my destination for just a few hours, having an awesome time. Without warning, the Thought popped into my head. I did not consciously invite it. Yet, it was there. I acknowledged it, I knew what it was saying, and I did my best to shut the Thought down. In all that sunshine, it still persisted, until it had to be heard. Finally, it broke through. Just a few hours into my happy place, the Thought said:

“Your vacation is already running out.”




The point of the Thought, no matter how dark and premature, was still valid. A few precious hours had already ticked off what imaginary and unacknowledged internal clock I had going. I sat there with the Thought, yet I knew I had power, I had strategies and choices. This may be the first shot, but I can -no I WILL- shut this nonsense down now. In my happy place, with my person, with my dog, a few good beers, with families having a great time, with being so close to the ocean, with already awesome memories, I fired back. I acknowledged the Thought; it was in fact, true, my vacation was already a few hours gone. But I took the power to consciously say (in my head, because in resort town bar, this would be pretty embarrassing, no matter how strong the beer is) “That doesn’t matter. I am not going to let the passing of 3 hours effect the remaining 165. This will not deter me. So, thanks for reminding me, Thought, because I am grateful for this little nudge to make what’s left count. So, now, off with you, Thought, because I can now assure you I. Will. Make. This. Count.”

And then I had about another 4 beers to celebrate my victory. Woot woot!

The point here is that I, just like my friend above, have the power to take control and not be the victim here. We can both at least acknowledge the issue, but we don’t have to let it own us.

We don’t have to let one little brief spurt of time ruin everything else. Dread, fear, worry-all of that is bullshit and a glorious waste of time. Back to the issue, Monday is always going to come. Because I am so smart, I will share some possible ideas that might make it more bearable.

Make Sunday count. Instead of cowering over the fact Monday is bearing down on your, appreciate the time you have. Read, cook a good meal, lay on the couch in your (preferably yours) underwear, volunteer, draw, eat cheese, binge a TV show, write a blog no one reads, go somewhere you’ve never been, hell, even do some work. You have the choice to do whatever it is to Make.This.Count.

(Speaking of Make.This.Count, I gotta start getting tshirts, hats, mugs and other nonsense with that on it on Etsy. KT merch coming soon!)

Prepare for Monday. As we've previously seen, Monday always wins; it always arrives after Sunday. Maybe be a bit mature here (a stretch for this blog, I know) but plan for it. Using my pathetic shell of an existence as an example, on Sunday night -and pretty much every night before a workday-I prep my breakfast and throw it in the fridge, I freeze some stuff for a NutriBullet, ensure my work clothes are relatively decent, my bottle of vodka is hidden in a thermos in the car, I know what I have to do as an elected official of the US and lastly look in the mirror and tell myself how awesome I am. You can do the same, especially the part where you tell your mirror how awesome Kev is. 

Make Monday earn it. Do whatever it is that fills your Sunday up, so that Monday is like all, “Nah, bro, I see you killed it yesterday, you can just use me to reset from all your weekend awesomeness.”

Do something outside your box on Monday.

Do a little research to make your Monday better. My real life example; I have discovered a lot of places have all you can eat crabs on Monday. No matter how much Monday thinks it can kick my ass, come Monday night, I’m freaking Neptune devouring the sea.

Look, this could all go on, you get the point.

Please don’t fall victim to the fallacy that is this Sunday Scaries nonsense. Maybe come up with contrarian bullshit like “Friday Frenzy” or “Adventure Saturday.” Hell, even plan ahead for “Power Hour President’s Day” or “Awesome August 24th.” These are the types of ideas we should be dwelling in.

I admit, I am not great with math, but I am pretty sure Monday is, like, 1/7th of your life. Does it make sense to spend most of Sunday -also, I think about 1/7th of your life-in fear and dread? Narrator voice: “No, it does not.”

You’re free to now go and do whatever it is to. Make. This. Count.


Director's Commentary
I've spent roughly 4 hours of my Sunday writing, researching, linking, getting pics and videos and editing this post together. 4 hours of a #FacebookFree48 Summer Sunday gone. But what I got back is this post. In my own bizarre way, I have a tangible piece of my "art" out of today. Anything else past that is just a bonus. I am satisfied that I made this count.

Sunday, July 21, 2019

#FacebookFree48; The Life I Saw This Weekend

I firmly believe, long after I am gone, history will finally realize that I am a brilliant writer with brilliant ideas. None may be any more brillianter than what I've been doing the last 3 weekends. I've been staying off Facebook and social media. I have currently dubbed this #FacebookFree48. As another Monday morning dawns, I feel refreshed. I feel drama and stress free. I'm also feeling pretty damn haughty about the Free 48 I'm onto. I feel like it's my mental "down dog" and I don't even have to wear yoga pants. Or any pants really.

Dog does not have social media. Be more like dog.

One of the byproducts of the Free 48 is all the -duh- free time. I'm up and out of bed earlier because I'm not on FB seeing whose bitching about the weather or politics. I'm not on the dumper for 20 minutes now. I'm doing healthier things for my mind and body. Now, maybe you're not sold on this Free concept, so I thought I would detail all the "extra" little things in life I got to do and see this weekend. Turns out there's a lot of life that doesn't fit in your phone.

I watched the Endless Summer like I always do during the summer. It's my favorite summer movie-sorry, Jaws and Malibu Bikini Shop-and a great slice of a simpler time. I also enjoy watching it before the PC police come down on it for maybe, possibly being a tad racist in, like 1 or 2 small segments. But I really feel it was naivete and cluelessness on film maker Bruce Brown's part.

I had my faith restored in humanity, which is pretty heavy for a Saturday. As much as I loathe to do this during the weekend, I had to venture out to the store to pick something up. While I was there, minding my own GD business, a guy comes up to me and asks, "Excuse me, do you work here?" One thing I have learned about me is that I appear to look like I work at whatever place I may be in at that given time. (Like, for example, the liquor store. But at least that makes sense because I am there all the damn time, they gave me my own locker in the back.) I politely tell him no, but I also point him to someone who does. He goes over to the employee, whatever. Then the guy comes up to me and thanks me! "Hey, buddy, I just wanted to thank you. What's your name?" I am flabbergasted this kind of courtesy exists in this world. I tell him my name, he extends his hand, "Well, thank you, Mr. Kevin" and he walks away. 

I find myself listening to Michael Franti more and more. However, this is music I can only listen do during the summer. When it’s nice. And sunny. Not raining. (I know, I know, I am a music freak.) I wasn’t even digging Stay Human 2 till recently, then the click came and I dug it. I really think Franti is getting to be to young people what Buffett is to old people. Also, Roger Clyne and The Peacemakers is great summer music. I’ve been getting into the Joint on SXM. Again, when the summer goes, so does the preset for the Joint.

I’m writing more and more. I think we can all be thankful for that. Namaste, world.

Killing it at the gym. Like, to the point, I’m actually sweating. This is good news, as it aids an air of legitimacy to all the over priced UnderArmour I wear.

Cleaned out my computer. Much like myself, I’ve been noticing it slowing down lately. Look, I understand, as far as PCs go, it’s getting pretty old. (I bought it last week). I took the time to go through settings/apps and features to remove anything questionable. And I know what you’re thinking, and, no, none of this was from watching porn. Also, much like myself, I cleaned out all the cookies. My PC should be quicker now, which could mean more blogs! More likely, drunken Amazon purchases. (Narrator voice; “None of this worked.”)

I watched a lotta porn.

I went to the store to buy a frozen pizza. I left it on the dashboard, and by the time I got home, it was ready.

Came across one of the funniest sites I've ever seen

Speaking of, went blackout shopping on Amazon. I’m not even gonna check what I did, I prefer the surprise. One time, Drunk Kev went all next level and got into my subscribe & save. This explains why I have 37 bottles of Orange Glo.

I switched up my direct deposits. Yay adulting!

Finished a book. Pretended to understand it.

Reset my neighbor’s wifi password. Just to teach him a lesson. Can’t be too safe these days. I mean, with a password like FGh56://5tY7Gg5&o2@k%, he was just asking for it.

Filled out every survey at the bottom of every receipt I could find. Back up the Brinks truck!

On Sunday, like a proper and distinguished gentleman, I had brunch:

Accomplished my summer goal ahead of time; collected all 50 different bottles of Mountain Dew. Comes with free diabetes.

Multiple incidents of puppy cuddles. I have to say it boggles my mind when I see people walking their dogs, yet they're staring into their phones. (The people, not the dogs.) Like, you're walking a dog, life can't get much better.

Monday is once again upon us, with it's usual evil precision. Yet I feel refreshed and pretty sure my bullshit meter is low. I had a great weekend in many respects even if it wasn't all amusements parks and beaches. I'm grateful for the extra time I got back and the little slices of life I got to see. Now, maybe the freight train that is the work week has all kinds of bad plans for me, I can't say. But I can say I am coming from a pretty good place, and I really like my odds.

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

No One Cares What You Look Like in 50 Years

Not to brag, but I had another great weekend. Wanna know why? If so, please read on. If you don’t, then I don’t know what to tell you, and now this whole thing is getting awkward. But it looks like you’re still here, so I guess you do wanna hear about my weekend. And you can tell me all about yours at I totes promise I will read it.

Anywhoo, it was a great weekend, because for the second week in a row, I didn’t check my socials. I am thinking this needs to grow as a movement, so we need some sweet hashtag. #FacebookFreeFriday could work. #OfflineWeekend. I would like to hear yours, so leave them in the comments below. I can’t do all the thinking here.

On wears the week, and I suddenly start getting all these pics of my friends as they will look in 50 years. Uh oh, another FB fad coming.

So why the bloody eff are we in a rush to see what we’d look like in 50 years?

No one wants to see this, and, hell, I’ll save you the trouble of even bothering. Take a good look at yourself in the mirror; fight the urge to take a selfie. In 50 years, imagine:

Grey hair. Lots of it. Some possibly in strange places.

Maybe no hair at all.

At least 1-3 chins. 

Glasses. And they won’t hide the heinous bags under your eyes 50 years in this life will give you.

A lack of knowledge of WeverTF passes for pop music.

Face it, in 50 years, we’re all gonna look pretty gross, if not dead. In which case, we’d be both.

See, now you know, and you didn’t even have to give all yourinfo to the Russians! (Prolly not related, but I guess this means we know who wins the next election. #VoteForKev2020 is our only hope.)

facebook 50 years
Plus, I have all your information, comrade.

Why are we obsessed with this? We are a youth based society. Just look at our health magazines. All the headlines boast “5 Ways to Look Younger!” and “Do This One Simple Trick and Feel Younger Instantly!” You’re not gonna sell any magazines or books with taglines like “How To Feel 60 and Diabetic in 30 Days” or “Hearing Aid Earrings.”

Spoiler alert kids, no one is as young as they say online anyway. For example, I have been claiming to be single and 25 every year for like 12-13 years now. If I’m any older than that, most of society won’t care.

Here’s something I’ve learned over the years of social media; if there is a sudden app or trend popping up on FB all of a sudden (like what was that big cartoon thing a couple years ago? See, I already forgot.) it’s probably got some malicious intent. But, sheep being sheep and all, sheep just think this is way cool, and click to DL and never read the terms and conditions. Yes, I know, none of us do. But the good thing about these sudden fads are all our stupid friends will fall for it, and two days later their account will blast out redic deals on Raybans. So it’s time we call this for what it is-attention whoring. “Look at me when I’m 50! Reassure me I won’t look this bad then!” The subliminal message here is “Tell me I’m good looking now!”) These same sheep who are so sudden to jump on this are all the vain ones who constantly post bullshit selfies and pics of them 5-10-15 years ago. Hell, I see even celebrities are even getting in on the trend. Couldn't they just take off all the make up and get the same effect?
facebook 50 years
My picture looks exactly the same, mate.

If I was to walk up to one of these sheep and say, “In 50 years, you will be fat, wrinkly, semi blind, probably hard of hearing, I SAID PROBABLY HARD OF HEARING (that joke never gets old) balding, one eye looking different from the other, wearing white socks and probably smell” you’d want to smack the shit out of me, But, lookie here!1! Here’s an app from an unknown third party source that does it for me1!!1 Let’s go!” I am too lazy too follow this notion up, but I am pretty sure there is some douchetastic wording that invites fellow shallow/sheep friends to say how good looking you are now. Gag.

I do have friends/constituents who are widely considered elders because they are almost 50. As you can imagine, they hate being 50, and don’t understand why “the youngsters” are doing this. From what they tell me, your body starts to go downhill between 30-35. They’ve told me all sorts of upsetting things like multiple trips to the bathroom at night and needing reading glasses. Honestly, they were just droning on and on, and I kinda checked out on the rest. I don’t need to be bothered by this unpleasantness when I’m only 25.

The takeaway here is, just learn to appreciate where you are. You can’t get back your youth. And age is an unrelenting and unforgiving deadline. Learn to be comfortable with yourself, whatever age you are. Fortunately, this is easier to do as you move along in life. Don’t rush things. Only the truly enlightened can stay 25 forever.

DVD Extras
This post is a "q & d" a quick and dirty.

Quick and dirty because the idea suddenly hit me. Quick and dirty because I am sure there already a kijillion posts like this out there already, though none as honest and side splittingly funny as this one and also because I gave myself a time limit to get it on the blog. If you sense the editing is a bit rough, that is why. For me, it's a challenge to put myself on a deadline, and just be OK with it, and "let it go." Also, you're a pretty GD astute reader, way to go, champ! Honestly, this whole topic will burn out pretty quick, so this is also an experiment using some search engine optimization to get a few new eyeballs to this here blog. Even if they have to wear reading glasses to read it.